By Camille Cannon

(This article originally appeared in Vegas Seven magazine on May 12, 2016.)

Performing at a Las Vegas nightclub is a very “rapper-y” thing to do right now. Did it feel like that when you were approached with the opportunity?

Yeah, and I was just saying this the other day, my whole life, I did not expect to be a rapper. This is a new development. I don’t consider myself a rapper. But recently, I feel more like a rapper than ever.

How so?

By being around other rappers. The other day I met Busta Rhymes. I feel a certain way about myself when it comes to being an important rapper, when it’s all said and done, but I know that you have to feel that way. And I’ve always felt that way. Even when it wasn’t justified. But you know it’s gonna take other people to believe it, too. Other people who matter. Busta Rhymes told me he hasn’t been this concerned with other rappers in the last 10 years. “Maybe Kendrick,” he said. One of the best rappers ever is saying this to me and I’m like, “Oh, this is totally a real thing.” When moments like that happen, it’s entirely validating.

If you could describe your current success to your 23-year-old self, how would he respond?

Truthfully, the conversation would be very simple. The 28-year-old me would say to the 23-year-old me, “Just so you know, you’re completely right and justified in your beliefs.” And the 23-year-old would say, “Yeah, I thought so. That’s why I’m doing it.” Honestly. It’s been successful, but it’s totally what I was expecting. People ask me all the time, “Are you surprised by success?” and I genuinely am not. It sounds arrogant, but I wouldn’t be doing it if I didn’t believe in my trajectory.

What’s your end goal?

I wouldn’t say there’s an end goal. Rap is never going to go away [for me]. I mean, I guess it will when I’m like, 50. But there are other goals. I’m working on a TV show. I’d love to have a sitcom. I’d love to be in movies. I’d love to do stand-up. When I started rapping, those were my only goals. Now I feel like I have a legacy to fulfill as a rapper that I’ll never let go of. So I have two end goals: to be a very respected rapper and to be a very respected comedian.

Who are some comedians you admire?

Larry David and Will Smith are the top two. I love Curb Your Enthusiasm. I realized that I’m like [the fictionalized Larry David] as a person. He’s a version of what I aspire to be. And Will Smith [epitomized] “cool” for me as a child. I wonder if I’d be a rapper if Will Smith didn’t exist, because my definition of cool was exactly what he was.

With some creativity and product placement, you actually made money off your “$ave Dat Money” music video. Do you have any money-saving tips for us?

I just don’t buy what I don’t need. I’m driving a 2002 Toyota Avalon that my grandfather willed to me when he died. Could I afford another car? Absolutely. But does the car work? Yeah. So I don’t need a new one. The only thing I spend money on at this point is dates. They’re not, like, crazy dates. I just go on a whole bunch of them because I’m a hopeless romantic looking for a wife.

You mentioned in a 2014 interview with Hot 97’s Peter Rosenberg that you don’t feel comfortable hitting on women as “Lil Dicky,” and instead you approach them by asking, “How available are you to being hit on right now?” Is that still true?

Oh, yeah. That line is still going strong. Not enough people know who I am—especially girls—to where I can rely on that. And I’m not gonna be like, “Yo, do you know who I am?” So I’m going to always approach [women] with a line. I don’t think I’m ever going to not use it. Even if I was Matthew McConaughey, I’d still use that line.